


Confidence

by RuGrimm



Category: Wizard101
Genre: Commission work, F/F, Light Romance, Marleybone, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17525885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuGrimm/pseuds/RuGrimm
Summary: *Commission work for requiemdemonic/darkrapier. * Victoria has been living under the strict hand of her father, a Marleybonian nobleman heading the family of esteemed pyromancers. After an eventful dinner with the leaders of an affluent gang in Mirage, Victoria strikes up an interesting proposition for her long time friend and instructor.





	Confidence

“-and then I said, ‘What do ya mean the world was made by a giant, flying bone?! I’m pretty sure your HEAD was made from a giant, flying bone!”

“Hah, clever as always, Mr. Starshade,” concedes a man in Miragian-turban. He holds a golden goblet to the laughingstock at the head of the table before taking a sip of the maroon liquid inside. The black stubble of his royal beard gathers droplets of the sweet nectar, undisturbed by the lack of a genuine smile on his tan features. 

The woman beside the laughing man at the table’s apex leans closer to the giggling gossip, smiling gently as she touches his arm. “Yes, dear husband. How very clever of you.”

A few belated chuckles sweep the table, but they’re as tasteless as the roasted lamb sitting on the long, mahogany surface of their buffet. Gold-plated utensils shine beneath the light of a glass chandelier, and few can tell that the ‘flames’ of the chandelier’s candles are merely lightbulbs in disguise. 

Among the edges of the long table, a group of six are gathered around the vast array of dishes. Of these six, three sit in front of empty plates (save for perhaps a morsel of a fruit here and there). All dressed in casual yet traditional clothes from Mirage, they merely watch the other three eat their meal as culture prevents them from doing the same--an obvious oversight on the host’s part. 

The woman, dressed in red gown and pleasantly aged, manages to upkeep her straining smile as her husband’s laughter sends bread crumbs tumbling into the mess of his growing beard. Her own plate is scarce, save for what’s left of a slice of the lamb, and her napkin is carefully folded and placed to the side to signal the end of her meal. “Mr. Malik, I must thank you again for attending dinner with my family. I cannot apologize enough for the oversight of my kitchen staff!”

Though, most in the room acknowledge that the meal on the table had not been a choice of the kitchen but rather a request of the man at the very front. 

“No need, Mrs. Starshade. I am happy to oblige your family. It is always a welcome occasion when one does not need speak in serious tongue,” says the man who had spoken earlier, his goblet still in his grasp. “I applaud your tremendous hospitality, Mr. Starshade, amongst your other...redeeming qualities. He who is devoid of kindness is devoid of grace; that is a proverb that suits no noble man.”

Mr. Starshade wipes his face with his hand and inhales sharply with his nose before sitting up straighter in his chair. His belly causes the table to start a bit, liquid sloshing in their cups from the jarring movement. Although the head of the household isn’t a grotesquely large man, concerns from his wife--amongst other various and glaringly obvious reasons--suggest that he may be on that path. “No need to thank me, Malik. Please, just call me Richard.” He sucks in snot again, the sound akin to that of a honking goose. “I’m just sorry that you didn’t get to eat much.”

“Please, think nothing of it. Our bodies are merely sacred and must be kept clean. That is no fault of yours,” assures Malik. He shakes his hand politely in protest before lowering it to his lap.

“Well then, I’m glad you could bring your son along, this time,” Richard remarks with a gesture to the figure sitting to Malik’s right. “They can have the pleasure of meeting my beautiful daughter, Victo-...Victoria, what has your mother told you about eating at the table with your coat?”

The last of the three Marleybonians looks up from plate, having been caught in another dreamy gaze. Her brown locks hang over her wide and panicked silver eyes, food packed into her right cheek in mid-chew like a startled squirrel. Framing her face, the tall, white collar of her purple dress coat stands on end and further highlights the discombobulated expression on her pale features. 

“Mmm?” She blinks once, glancing between the stern face of her father and the downtrodden one of her mother. 

_ “Your coat.” _

She follows her father’s pointed gaze downward and stares at the purple fabric as if she hadn’t known it was there…

“Honey, please don’t wear your coats to the table. You’ll ruin the fabric if you drop something on it,” her mother interjects, almost squirming in the presence of her displeased partner. 

With a swallow and a brief cough, Victoria clears her throat and lowers her gaze to the edge of the wooden table. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Her fingers deftly pick at the buttons of her rarely closed coat, and as she does so, she grows smaller under the many eyes directed solely at her. The moment the aforementioned garb slips off her shoulders and is hung on the back of her chair, her bare arms prickle with millions of goosebumps. She grabs her fork delicately, keeping her head down as she stares solely at the remains of her plate. 

“As I was saying, I am glad that your son gets the chance to meet my Victoria. I’ve been looking for a wealthy man to take-...earn her hand for some time now. Your son seems like a very nice, young man,” continues the nobleman, reaching for his own cup now. 

Victoria doesn’t look up when she hears the sound of his spoon being knocked to the ground, content to push around the gravy smearing her plate. The familiar conversation is nothing but the same history her tutors teach her daily. 

“I must hold your assumptions there with respect, Mr. Starshade. Miragian men are given two paths to follow: take the road of rats or serve as a consort in the golden streets of Aggrobah. Women are sacred in Mirage, and men are unworthy of their attentions and grace. To be a consort is to serve the goddesses themselves, and it is the greatest honor any man can achieve. My son has been chosen to fulfill this role, and he shall until the beauty of the sands no longer bless him or a woman decides to take him as her mate,” he explains as he gestures to the young man sitting on his right. The young boy sits proudly, perfect posture accentuating his sharp features and deadly gaze. Blonde hair hangs over his tanned face--a rare feature amongst the Miragians--and he leaves no question to his otherworldly beauty or intelligence. “No man shall ever be allowed to touch a woman--let alone take one as his wife--unless she chooses him. We are not granted such privilege. I wish for Alek to serve as many fine women as he can in his lifetime, as all fathers wish for their sons.” 

Richard sits in silence for a moment, contemplating… Victoria can tell from just a glance by the way his contorted face makes crumbs fall from his beard. 

“Well...do you have any other sons that would like to take a doll li-”

_ “Shut up.”  _

All eyes fall on the last, unnamed member of the table. Having sat in silence until now, no one had paid any attention to the woman sitting in between Malik and Richard. As strong and commanding as her presence was, a few might have doubled back to make sure that it was a woman speaking. Muscles to put some of the strongest men to shame, her killing gaze sweeps the table and focuses solely on the noblemen with a goblet halfway to his greedy mouth. 

“I call bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” His tone deepens, and as the head of the household, he puts on his most ‘terrifying nobleman face.’ 

“You heard me. I call bullshit. You’re trying to pawn your daughter off on him so that you can leech off his money. You’re running out of yours, and you’re in debt to another gang. What better way to save your shitty way of life than to sell your daughter to a wealthy player?” 

“That is enough, Lex,” warns the leader of the Miragian three, casting a glance to his outspoken companion. 

Lex, leaning over the edge of the table and face hard with anger, snickers as she takes one last at the obviously startled nobleman and then reluctantly sits back down. Reclining in her chair and putting her feet on the table’s edge, she crosses her arm over her chest and doesn’t break the heated staring contest. 

With a swallow, Richard breaks to look over at Malik who merely sighs and lowers his head. 

“I apologize for my subordinate's behavior. She is a very outspoken woman, and we’re lucky to have woman amongst our ranks at all. I trust that her services have been found...productive in your opinion, Mr. Starshade..?” 

The nobleman gulps down a helping of gravy-soaked turkey, and as he speaks, bits and pieces tumble from his mouth and into the nestling crib of hair below. “I can’t say that they have been, Mr. Malik. I am most disappointed.” Richard wriggles his nose and wipes some gravy from his cheek with his hand before licking it off and stuffing his mouth again with an angry bite of bread. “I expected my dear Victoria to be at least a master pyromancer by now. She can hardly cast a measly fire cat! I haven’t had much luck with other instructors; I had hoped that surely someone of your talents and age could go through to her. You know how young children are these days.” 

Victoria squirms uncomfortably in her seat, her fork prodding at a wrinkly date and chasing it around what’s left of a cranberry salad. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Lex’s intense stare focused on her, and she bites her bottom lip because she knows her instructor won’t be able to keep her mouth shut. 

“Well, maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass and stopped trying to make your daughter something she isn’t, you’d see some more promising results. She’s worse than a rattlesnake in a ghulture’s nest. For now, all I can do is make sure that she has the skills to cut your heart out before you give yourself a cardiac arrest. She isn’t your tool to use for your own gain. She’s a good student and a good person who is deserving of some sort of appreciation, and I’m not sure how a swine like you could make someone like that.”

“Lex…” Victoria mutters with a wince, and she looks up to the smug expression on the Miragian woman’s face. It’s the look she has when she’s excited for a fight…

“Excuse me?!” comes Richard’s thunderous roar, and his fist pounds onto the table and causes his wife’s cup to tumble off the side of the table and onto the floor. Heckhounds race to the nobles’ sides as their tongues greedily slurp rosey nectar and teeth decide which hound gets a taste. 

“I didn’t stutter, did I?” 

“Lex, that is enough,” Malik interjects, but Lex is already pulling her feet off the table and rising to stand. 

Leaning over the plates and glasses, she puts her calloused hands on the table and presses forward to defy Starshade’s befuddled anger. Intelligent and cruel eyes narrow with deadly precision, and like a panther, she holds a predatory posture. “Oh, Richard, if you think for one moment that you can sell your daughter like you eat your cakes, you’ll find that you’ll have more to worry about than finding out your wife’s infidelity.”  

Mrs. Starshade chokes on her own spit and drops the napkin she’d been trying to use in vain for the new stain on her dress. All eyes except Lex’s and Victoria’s land on the aging woman of wealth, and she shrinks under the weight of them all. 

“You Miragian gutter-rat, how dare you speak ill of my wife in front of my guests and family! Malik! Teach your slut some manners!” Richard’s face grows red, and as the wrinkles on his face deepen, some of the crumbs from his beard fall into his lap. 

Malik glances from the head of the table to his provoking partner, and he dips his head respectfully. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, with all respect intended, Mr. Starshade,” he says, though Victoria doesn’t miss what could have been mistaken as a smirk behind the sip of the Miragian’s goblet. 

“Then I’ll do it!” he roars, standing up abruptly and pulling out the red amulet from under his napkin-made-bib. “Sunbird, I summon thee to my beckoning!”

In a flash of red and heat, a squawk deafens the sounds of the heckhounds growling beneath the table. Embers fly out in every direction, bouncing on the floor and the table, and Mrs. Starshade deflects one behind the safety of a makeshift shield--her plate. Hovering in front of the fat nobleman with a steady beat of its wings, a red and yellow bird glares at a particularly snarky Miragian. 

Victoria stares wide-eyed at the exchange as she sets down her fork. Her jaw is slack and hands slightly trembling. On one end, her father stands enraged, towering over his chair and enraptured by the heat and embers of his spell. On the other, Lex stands there unimpressed. Her hands grip lightly at the bare, tan skin of her hips, and when she shifts her weight to her right leg, Victoria can’t look away from the way her abs flex with the mundane movement. There’s a sanctimonious expression on her tan face, and Lex raises a toned arm to show a golden card between her fingers.

“A sunbird? That’s hardly an initiate spell. Is that the best you can do, old man?” she taunts, smile growing wider. 

“SILENCE!”

Richard’s arm sweeps through the air in a diagonal motion, and as his hand aligns with his side, the firebird screeches again and rushes toward Lex in a ball of fire. 

Unphased, she waits until the bird closes half the distance...and then flicks the card horizontally toward the approaching inferno. “Yutafiy.” 

The card flashes a bright yellow before it makes contact with the sunbird, and droplets explode in every direction like a water balloon when the two finally meet. In a magnificent explosion of magical residue, the card, water, and sunbird all disappear as if they had never existed. Only a brief wisp of steam wafts through the empty space between the two wizards as if nothing had happened. 

“Y-you...HOW DARE YOU!” Richard’s mouth goes slack as he stumbles to find the right words, and he looks from Malik and then to Lex as the tan wizard turns away from him and saunters toward the doors on the far end of the dining hall. “Why won’t you do something?!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Starshade. I think we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” Malik bows his head and stands from his seat, his son following lead. “It was a pleasure having done business with you. I wish you luck on future endeavors.” The Miragian gang leader then takes after Lex who smiles sidelong at the purple-clad girl still sitting at the table. 

Victoria meets her gaze dumbfoundedly, lips slightly parted and body no longer trembling. The thought that the one person who had understood her, even if she was only another of many instructors, leaves her speechless. As if to further acknowledge her, Lex throws a wink and a slight nod in her direction, and Victoria can’t help the tiny--albeit rare--smile on her own face. 

“R-Richard...Calm down…” The nobleman’s wife stands and rushes to her husband’s side, grabbing his arm in a futile attempt to drag his attention away from his cocky challenger. 

“I will not! Let go of me, woman!” Starshade pushes his questionably loyal wife aside and sneers as he turns toward a nearby axe hanging on the wall. “I’m done playing these games!”

The Ashen Axe--the treasured and most powerful Marleybonian wand a pyromancer could ever ask for. Victoria knew it well for that was the thing her training was supposed to prepare her to wield despite Lex’s protests that such a barbaric weapon would not suit her style. 

Glancing from Lex’s retreating form to her father, something in her clicked…

She doesn’t remember when she bolted from her seat.

She doesn’t remember her warning scream or the way Lex’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. 

She certainly doesn’t remember the words her father chanted before flames engulfed the room.

And she doesn’t remember falling into strong arms, the burns, the smell of smoke, or even the panicked voices deafened by the ringing of her ears. 

**Xxx**

“Mmm…” 

Victoria’s lashes flutter against ghostly pale cheeks, and when she finally opens her eyes, her head begins to pound with excruciating ferocity. 

_ “Oh, so you’re awake now?” _

Lex stands over the witch with her arms crossed, watching as the brunette puts a reddened hand to her bandaged head. Her face is dark, knuckles whitening as her fingers dig into the firm muscles of her biceps. “How thoughtful of you.”

Victoria squints through the painful light of her overhead chandelier to look at a face she knew meant trouble. “What..?”

“You mean, ‘what happened’? Let me tell you what happened,” hisses the Miragian, putting a knee on the bed as she uncrosses her arms and leans into the other’s personal space. “You thought you could be a dumbass and threw yourself into a heccin’ phoenix’s path. And you wanna take a guess what happened?”

“I-I-...”

“You got roasted like a peanut in the desert!” Lex grabs a pillow out from under Victoria’s head, raising it high before bringing it down mercilessly on the injured brunette with every pause. “You stupid, arrogant, thoughtless, naive, stupid-”

“Ow! Ow! St-stop it!” Victoria raises her hands up in an attempt to stop the onslaught of feathered pillow, body aching from even the harmless assault. With every movement, the healing burns on her body stretch and protest. 

“Ow?! _ OW?! _ Maybe you should have thought about that before you did something so reckless!” Lex throws the pillow aside and grabs the neckline of the other witch’s nightgown. Pulling up the wincing girl, she balls her hand into a fist and threateningly holds it in striking position. “I should beat some sense into you!”

“L-Lex…” Eyes watering from the pain, she grabs at Lex’s hijab in weak protest. 

Hands trembling, the Fire witch hesitates before letting out a deep exhale and allowing the younger to fall harmlessly back on the soft bed. “Fine,” she snaps, turning away and marching across the rather luxurious bedroom. Soft oaks, rich mahoganies, and exquisite marble decorate the humble yet extravagant quarters, and though it’s obviously expensive, it doesn’t stop the destructive witch from having her way with it.

“You know, if I hadn’t casted that Fire Shield at the last moment…” she hisses, grabbing an ornate vase from a pedestal and observing it with a heated glare. “Do you know what would have happened to you?”

Victoria sits up slowly in stunned silence, hand covering the bandage on her right arm. With legs tucked under silken red sheets and partially obscured by the dangling veil of her four poster bed, she looks like an injured swan in an enchanting bird cage. Words die on her tongue, and she only inwardly shrinks at Lex’s obvious rage. 

“DO YOU KNOW?!” Lex rounds on her again with teeth bared and eyes alight. Her grip on the vase tightens, and she bristles as she expects an answer she never gets. Victoria only lowers her gaze in response, and at the lack of an answer, the hotheaded woman throws the vase against the wall to the right. “YOU’D BE DEAD! You hear me?! DEAD.”

Fragments explode against the ornate wallpaper and onto the hardwood floor, and Victoria flinches. She can’t make eye contact, and she swallows hard as she dips her head lower. 

“Do you...do you even COMPREHEND what...what that would…what that would do to..?” Her chest is heaving, temple pulsing. Every muscle in her body wants to act out, to destroy and burn something to a sizzling pile of ashes. She doesn’t tear up, but Victoria imagines that if Lex did, the tears would merely evaporate from the heat coming off of her. With face contorted into something between anger and pain, she points a finger in the other’s direction. “You’re so stupid.

If you had just sat your pretty little ass on that chair like a good girl and let me handle it, you wouldn’t be the equivalent of burnt, grilled cheese. If only you had the tiniest INKLING of self-self...well...if you had just let it happen, you wouldn’t be hurt right now. Do you know how that...how that….UGH! You’re just so daft sometimes!”

Looking up and away toward the balcony to her left, Victoria drops her hands to her blankets and grabs at them gently. “But I’m not weak…” she finally says, her voice hoarse and unsure. 

“It doesn’t matter whether you’re weak or not if you’re a charred corpse,” Lex growls, slinking toward Victoria’s bedside and looking down on the young witch with hard eyes. “I taught you better than that.”

At first, the younger doesn’t say a word. She merely keeps looking at the open doors to the balcony and the flowing, veil-like curtains. And then, as she speaks, she manages a small smile. “Thank you…”

“You better be thanking me,” grunts the Fire witch, sniggering as she plops down on the mattress with her back to the other and arms crossed. “It won’t happen again.”

Her smile doesn’t fade, and Victoria finally turns her head to the other as her grip on the sheets tighten. “Lex...I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I took care of that douche like you wanted. So there. That’s the end of that. I’ll be heading home now.” Lex glances over her shoulder for a moment and then away when she realizes that their eyes met. Her back and shoulders are rigid, jaw locked. She’s a burning stone, emotions raging beneath the surface of her hard exterior. 

“What happened to my father?”

“After he cast that spell, Malik took care of him. Taught your father some respect. Chances are, your father will be broke soon now that his ties with my family have been severed. I’d recommend learning how to make yourself a decent middle-class working woman.” 

Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head at the memory of Mr. Starshade who wasn’t concerned for the welfare of his own child after such a horrific accident. Malik, perturbed that someone didn’t care for their offspring (let alone a woman), took matter into his own hands whilst the staff and Lex saw to Victoria whom had taken significant damage when the fire shield Lex hastily casted absorbed most of the damage and then recoiled. The explosion had left the young witch in sorry shape, and though Lex had assured Malik and Alek that she had been aware of the nobleman had been up to and had a plan to counteract it, she truly had been too caught up in her self-proclaimed win to notice the danger. It was her fault Victoria had taken the fall. Even if Victoria hadn’t intercepted, Lex would have likely taken little damage...Not that the other knew that.

_ “In that case...take me with you.” _

Her words come out before even she knows it, and Lex turns on her with the first semblance of an expression other than anger or overconfidence that Victoria’s ever seen. 

“Take you with me? As in...join my  _ gang? _ ” Lex’s blinks at first and then her countenance hardens into something the other can’t quite read. 

Nodding, the brunette steels herself despite the trembling sensation in her legs. She tries to convince herself that she’s shaking only because it’s cold, but something inside her knows better. 

“Well...you aren’t a half-bad fighter…though you could use some serious help with your lacking form...” Lex mulls over it as she tilts her head and looks the other up and down. “But you’re not leaving in that condition.”

“That’s fair…” Victoria nods again and looks downward. No, of course Lex wouldn’t let her join. She can’t even do simple magic. Sure, she’s good with a sword, but so are many others.

“And it’s time you start doing magic that’s better suited for you.” 

“Hmm?” Brows furrowed, Victoria looks back up and blinks with a dumb expression. 

“You’re not a pyromancer, and it’s time you stop pretending to be one. I know a fellow pyromancer when I see them, and you lack the fire inside to be one.” Lex shrugs and leans back on her hands. “I think you’d be a better diviner. Don’t you think? You took very well to some of those Storm spells in practice, wouldn’t you say? We’ve been training for months now. If you were a pyromancer, we would have seen some results by now.” 

She blinks again. “A d-diviner? I don’t think so. My family’s always been pyromancers…”

Lex rolls her eyes and then looks back to the other with a skeptical expression. “Really? You don’t think things can change? Your parents don’t define you. The sooner you learn that, the better. That way, you can stop associating with that di-”

“But...then what was all this for...if you already knew?” 

Standing now and walking around the bed, Lex throws her hands up with palms to the ceiling. “Maybe I was just making the old man happy...but maybe...just maybe...I might have also been preparing you for things to come. You can use a sword well, can’t you? You can take down most any bum you set your mind to. It’s not like I, of all witches, can teach you to use magic I can’t use myself.”

“That...makes sense, I guess,” she mutters as she purses her lips pensively. “Then...if I go with you, will I find someone to teach me Storm magic?”

“Hmm...we’ll have to see, won’t we?” She closes in on the other like she closed in on her father earlier. The predatory heat in her eyes burns passionately again, and her lips part ever so slightly as she crawls onto the bed until her face nears the other’s. “Say...I may be mistaken, but...is your wanting to come with me entirely about escaping this fancy pigglesty?” 

Swallowing, Victoria pulls back away a bit and tries not to let her eyes wander down the other like they had so freely done at dinner. “Um...I-I mean...yeah...I…”

“Then, you’d say that you’re interested in marrying a man?” 

Face reddening to the color of her very own sheets, Victoria coughs and turns her head away. “I...I don’t really want to...marry...persay.”

“Mmhmm...Interesting.” Her eyes narrow dangerously, and she tilts her head as if inspecting her prey before leaning forward until her lips brush the witch’s ear. “I’ll be seeing you again when it’s time for your departure. Good night, Victoria. Sweet dreams~”

“L-Lex, wai-”

She’s silenced by a brief pressure on her mouth, eyes wide as she stiffens like a board, and when she blinks, Lex is already at the balcony between the open doors. The tanned woman winks and blows her a kiss before she jumps onto the railing and waves. In a flash of thin curtains, she’s gone.

Pressing her fingertips to her besieged lips, she stares after the empty space and wonders what she’s gotten herself into...


End file.
